


Hot and Cold

by wsupmuur



Category: Fruits Basket (Anime 2019), Fruits Basket - Takaya Natsuki (Manga)
Genre: F/M, Fanfiction, Fruits Basket - Freeform, M/M, idk how this works, ok cool thats all, uhhhhhh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-08
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-18 16:48:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28621302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wsupmuur/pseuds/wsupmuur
Summary: a fruits basket, modern royalty au where the main character is yuki sohma
Relationships: Honda Tohru/Sohma Kyou, Manabe Kakeru/Sohma Yuki
Comments: 3
Kudos: 10





	1. prologue

Yuki had once believed that everything that happened to him, was completely arbitrary. And even now, as the sun fell to the horizon and light danced across the sky, as if they were meant to do that now, tomorrow, and for the rest of their colorful lives, he still believed that.

It wasn’t his fault, after all, that he was the one destined to be heir. It wasn’t his fault that his father took a particular liking to him simply because of an ancient tale and his superstitutions, wasn’t his fault that his mother loved the wealth and the reputation more than her own beloved son, and it wasn’t his fault that his brother hated him so much. It was simply a matter of him being the “pre-determined victor”. But being born with something like that was ultimately random, too; who was to know or choose that Yuki would be the one to inherit it all one day, based on simple words on paper and a coincidental eclipse, a full moon, and lightning? Not even the ruler’s first son, but his second?

_Yes,_ Yuki thought softly to himself as he leaned against the balcony railing. _It was arbitrary._ Everything that was happening to him was simply by chance - that is what he convinced himself of, every single day. By doing so, it was the only way he was able to continue on living despite everything. 

Because how else could it be possible to be surrounded by so much, while feeling so damn empty?

He took a large sip from his wine glass as he thought that, the sweet-coated bitterness just as heavy as the life he had to live. 

At times, though, he did allow himself to believe differently. Sometimes, when the sun was in a nice place in the sky to shower rays of warmth on his cool, pale face, drying up any tears that might have fell. Or at times when the responsibilities weren’t as hard to keep up with, or when he had time to sneak into a party or two, or when it felt as though his brother wasn’t being as cold to him as usual. Sometimes he wondered, maybe it’ll be fine. Maybe it’s because better days are ahead, and this way of life will soon be over.

He stopped wondering such positive thoughts long ago. It had only made him sad when life would prove him wrong, and drowning in red wine and red lips when you’re sad only caused for more pain (and a hell of hangovers) later.

Arbitrary. Completely arbitrary, by chance. If Kyo got this life, it would’ve happened to him, too. It was all completely by chance, not because of anything else, not because of anything else that could be intentional.

But then Prince Hiro, just a boy now becoming a young man, would visit alongside his parents. And his parents, so sweet and understanding... Maybe Hiro would’ve been lucky, with such sweet parents, even if he himself was destined with a life too heavy for his own shoulders. 

Yuki shook himself out of his thoughts at that one, ruffling a hand through his soft gray hair and lightly smacking his forehead. _No, Yuki. Don’t be jealous of others over something they have no control over. Just as you didn’t have control of your own fate._

_Just like we don't, even now._

Kakeru appeared in his head at that moment. Kakeru Manabe, the man with eyes that told so much yet so little, who had an insanely high tolerance for alcohol and was dangerously skilled with a sword. Playful and kindhearted, yet powerful and dangerous. A refreshing drink in this castle of uptight snobs, and a burn down his throat when he let him talk too damn much.

_Then why don’t you step away from this path,_ he'd say, a glint of mischief in his eyes and a playful smile on his lips, _and try a different way of life instead, my prince?_

Irritation spread across Yuki’s face and he scrunched up his nose, thinking of the sarcasm of that last part. "Ah, what the hell…” He rubbed his temples and took another sip of wine. “Look at me, actually considering the words of that goddamn idiot...”

Yuki said that to himself, but he didn’t know who he was convincing with that. When it came down to it, he _did_ listen to Kakeru. He'd consider every single word.

Yuki’s eye twitched. _Imagine admitting that to his face?_ Yuki would never hear the end of it.

_But then again..._

Yuki turned sharply away from the outside now, away from the darkness that surrounded the towns below and into the extravagance of his silver and sapphire chamber. “Enough of this,” he hissed to himself. “Enough of this. You have things to do tomorrow. A great deal of things, in fact. More important than whatever the hell I’m thinking about when I’m borderline tipsy.”

And with that, he stepped off the balcony and away from the night sky, retreating into his bedroom and closing the doors behind him. He placed the wine glass softly against the glass table at the center, and yawned softly. 

Yuki unbuttoned the top of his shirt lazily, his movements slow from the wine and hair tousled from his constant pulls and touches. He then lifted the shirt above his head and disregarded it to a random spot on the floor. The moonlight spilled in from the clear glass and shone on his skin, giving a perfectly dim light to emphasize all the right features. Yuki stared at himself in front of his mirror. 

Yuki’s skin was flawless from head to toe, save for a few scars from the occasional practice injuries and fights. And although he preferred to practice in private over his brother’s pretty-much public sessions, it didn’t mean he practiced any less. His body was lean but toned, built where and as much as it should be , and his arms had enough muscle to prove his strength - his strength being second to none in the castle, except for possibly Kyo himself. Yuki had no reason to hide it, but he also had no reason to flex it, unless a woman he was spending time with had particular interest (and they usually did). 

He ran a hand through his hair and bit his lip, as if confused on what he was seeing. He probably was, though; after all, he drank too much wine. Alongside the amount of he just drank, was the amount of alcohol he drank just an hour or so earlier during his father’s dinner party.

“Dinner party." Yuki snickered under his breath at the memory. "What a shitshow." He stretched his arms and yawned once more, turning away from himself and towards the comfort of his... comforter. "Dinner party my ass. Never again." 

And with that last thought, he shuffled lightly to his grand bed and fell onto it, shutting his eyes and allowing sleep to overtake him as the moon was gave the last light he’d see for the rest of the night.


	2. 1. the prince, his guard, and his brother

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Hello, brother.” The orange-haired boy said the words with an icy hot tone, and yet there was no hint of warmth behind it at all. He didn’t even glance at Yuki when he began walking, or when he continued walking beside him. “Care to tell me why you’re late to a royal meeting?”
> 
> “First of all,” Yuki sighed, already tired of the conversation despite it just beginning, “it’s not a meeting, it’s lunch. And second of all,” he glanced to him, “if I’m late, then what’s your excuse, Kyo?”
> 
> Kyo scoffed. “None of your concern other than the fact that Father knows. Does he know about _you?”_
> 
> “Doesn’t need to. None of his business.”
> 
> “Huh,” Kyo chuckled, smirking coldly. “For someone who doesn’t like playing prince, you sure do take advantage of the power.”
> 
> A power he would do anything to give up.

4 months ago

The sound of metal against metal echoed throughout the vast chamber, swords cutting through the air and clashing quick and sharp. Sweat dripped from Yuki's forehead and he did his best to control his breathing - which was difficult, since he had now been practicing for over an hour. His long-sleeved button up was discarded to the floor close to the wall and sunlight made his skin warm, only making it feel a lot hotter than it already was. Yuki felt like he was melting, but he kept his stance as firm as his grip on his sword handle. And the young prince's eyes were locked with the other young man in front of him.

The latter twirled his own sword skillfully in his hand, running his other hand through his brown hair, matted with sweat from the training. "Come on, Yuki! You could do better than that!" An amused grin lit up his features, a flawless face aside from an old scar on his cheek. "Did the cool prince lose his touch?" 

It wasn't new to Yuki for his guard to be so irritating, but he had no interest in his games today. "As if," he answered, rolling his eyes and wiping the sweat from his forehead before setting his arms to fight once more. "I don't pay you to tease me, Kakeru."

Kakeru let out a laugh. "With all due respect, my prince, you don't pay me at all!"

Yuki met Kakeru around the time he turned eighteen, when his parents introduced him to the new set of guards that would soon be at his service. Yuki had walked past each one in a line, met with a bow and a polite greeting - as did all of their subjects, he supposed - before he'd nod in mutual greeting. Polite, but boring, just like every other royal process, and Yuki tried to get through it as quickly as possible. 

But then, as he continued down the line of oh-so honorable men, he came across a young man with unkept brown hair and a proud smirk. This man in particular took a little more time as he bowed, never breaking eye contact with the country's prince as he rose. 

"Happy to serve you," Kakeru had said slowly, a mischievous glint in his eyes, "my prince."

His entire demeanor was different from the other young men - not just because he was younger, and much more confident, but because the arrogance - God, the _arrogance_ \- in his tone felt like a challenge. The thought made Yuki's princely facade falter a tad, a cold smile cracking through. 

A mere guard, with absolutely no experience in the castle, casting a glance that implied a challenge, to the _heir of the kingdom._

Yuki nodded, but his voice was low, only for them to hear as he said a simple word: 

"Cocky."

His comment only made Kakeru smile even wider.

And three years later, Kakeru had climbed up the ranks - and as soon as he was able, was Yuki's first pick as his first guard.

And in Kakeru's world, that meant he had complete permission to push the prince's buttons until they popped.

"C'mon, Yun-Yun!" Kakeru took every strike of Yuki's with an evenly timed stroke, every jab deflected before it could get anywhere near his skin. "You can tell me aaanything! I won't tell!"

"Less talking," Yuki muttered, moving faster, "more _fighting!"_

They continued on like this for a while more, before the two collapsed to the floor with fatigue and sweat covered their bodies. Yuki placed an arm above his eyes as he caught his breath, throwing his sword to the side as Kakeru panted beside him. "You were faster today," Kakeru said in-between breaths as he threw his sword to his side as well. "But you were sloppy. Too easy to predict your next move." He turned his head to face him, and his hair flopped with him. "You don't usually make these mistakes. Seriously, what's with you?"

Yuki sighed. "I don't wanna talk about it."

Kakeru's mouth made a flat line. "And?"

"Maybe I don't wanna talk today."

"So you'd rather stab me than speak to me?"

"That doesn't sound like a very bad option."

Kakeru huffed in irritation, shifting himself a little farther from the prince. “Doesn’t feel as hot in here anymore!” he said aloud in a rather melodramatic manner. “The cold prince working his ice into my heart!”

Now it was Kakeru’s turn to laugh as Yuki punched him in the arm. “Now I _really_ won’t be telling you anything.” 

“You will though,” Kakeru said playfully, eyes now to the ceiling above them. “Eventually.”

To that, Yuki said nothing. 

Wasn’t like he was wrong. 

Yuki snorted. 

Another thing he hated Kakeru for.

Yuki lifted his arm from his face, and stared at the sky above.

The ceiling was see-through, a dome of clear glass overhead. It was a beautiful day, clear blue skies save for some clouds. The sun was bright, filling the room with light and warmth - which wasn’t very appreciated at the moment, given training. It wasn’t actually a training room, though; it was a beautifully simple room with shades of baby and gray blue on the walls, silver tapestries hanging beside the large, rectangular windows that were bordered with white. A grandfather clock sat alone in a corner. Three golden chandeliers hung from the top, and strings of gems fell shortly from them. 

Given the grandness of the room and the perfect lighting, it was definitely made for social gatherings, but Yuki requested for his father to keep it empty and just for him. The sun through the windows, the vast amount of space… when you’re a prince, that kind of thing is so rare, so when Yuki saw an opportunity to have it close by, he took it.

He used the room now for whatever he felt like. And today, it was to practice with his guard.

“Welp!” Kakeru bounced back after a moment of peaceful silence passed, recovered from the fatigue and the energy returned. He placed his hands on his hips and stretched, leaning back, rolling his head from shoulder to shoulder and attempting to fix up the sweaty, dark brown locks atop his head. "That was fun, but I think we should end it here."

Yuki tilted his head a bit towards his guard.

Kakeru’s eyes always had a glimmer in them, as if he was always ready to confront (and start) trouble. His jawline was sharp but his face was soft, the scar on his face faded, but there - it stretched from the side of his left nostril and stopped just midway across his left cheek. His frame was similar to Yuki’s: lean and muscular, but he was more toned, and worked a lot more often to keep it that way. 

But just like his face, he had some scars scattered there, too; and when he asked for the stories behind them, Kakeru answered the same way as he did with the one on his face: training accidents. Yuki wondered how much of that was true. 

And from this angle, with the light hitting him like this, Yuki could see why all the ladies in the castle were attracted to him.

“You’re staring.”

Yuki blinked. “What?”

Kakeru tilted his own head, angled toward Yuki who was still sprawled on the floor. “You’re staring at me. Do I have something on my face or what?”

Yuki shook his head. “Just a bunch of ugly that you can’t erase.”

Kakeru’s eye twitched. “Haha, very funny.” Kakeru leaned down towards him and offered a hand, which Yuki took. Kakeru yanked him up. “You’re just jealous that I’m a hundred times more attractive than you.”

Yuki stood up beside him, an amused smile on his lips. “You? More attractive than your crowned prince?” He let out a laugh and Kakeru only glared. “You’re funny. So funny.” He went to pick up his sword, picking up his shirt as well, and began to walk towards the grand entrance to exit. “Come on. We have a meeting soon. Don’t diddle-daddle.” 

“Excuse me?!” Kakeru rose his eyebrow this time, picking up his things quickly. “You damned pampered prince, you made me come here and practice with you nonstop for two hours, you didn’t even know you had a meeting until I told you! Then you have the audacity, the _audacity-_ ”

“Quit being melodramatic before I lock you in,” Yuki interrupted from the entrance, leaning against the doorframe and watching Kakeru huff and run after him. “I don’t pay you for this.”

“You don’t pay me at all!”

-

Yuki stood in his bedchambers and buttoned a new, dry, non-sweaty white button-up to his figure, standing in front of the mirror as Kakeru sprawled himself across the couch. His guard had knocked out the minute they returned, and Yuki, feeling guilty for dragging him out for sparring at such a last-minute notice, chose not to wake him. The meeting was for the royals, anyway; there would be other guards around.

He turned to his bed, and he eyed the clothing laid out for him. A gray, double-breasted jacket with a notched lapel, paired with matching gray trousers. A dark blue tie was laid out nicely next to the suit, and black dress shoes sat on the floor near the clothing. Yuki sighed; he strongly disliked the fit of formal wear, but for today’s meeting, he assumed it was for the best.

It was a family meal, after all.

After putting everything on and combing through his hair (which was pointless, considering he chose a messy look), he carefully passed by Kakeru and slid silently out of his room, closing the doors softly behind him. 

And upon stepping out, another young man his age passed by him briskly - someone with unnaturally orange hair and dark eyes that were a beautifully, vibrant red in the sun. Yuki caught himself walking in step beside him, considering they were both heading to the same place.

“Hello, brother.” The orange-haired boy said the words with an icy hot tone, and yet there was no hint of warmth behind it at all. He didn’t even glance at Yuki when he began walking, or when he continued walking beside him. “Care to tell me why you’re late to a royal meeting?”

“First of all,” Yuki sighed, already tired of the conversation despite it just beginning, “it’s not a meeting, it’s lunch. And second of all,” he glanced to him, “if I’m late, then what’s your excuse, Kyo?”

Kyo scoffed. “None of your concern other than the fact that Father knows. Does he know about _you?”_

Yuki rolled his eyes as they continued walking down the hallway. “Doesn’t need to. None of his business.”

Picture frames, big and small, decorated this hallway, pictures of the royal family from their generation and before. Yuki glanced at a spot to his right and he noticed a broken frame, but said nothing. The grand doors to the area of meeting were just up ahead. “Huh,” Kyo chuckled, smirking coldly. “For someone who doesn’t like playing prince, you sure do take advantage of the power.”

A power he would do anything to give up.

“Shut up,” was all Yuki said as they got to the doors. And Kyo kept the condescending smirk - Yuki, the cold glare in his eyes, even as the two pushed the doors open into the room, for a meeting neither were prepared for, and neither wanted to be at. 

Inside stood a pair of guards at each corner, large plates of food at the center of the long table in front of them, and five of the royal family sitting, staring, waiting. And the woman at the very end of the table made eye contact with both boys, a crown resting atop her short black hair and a smile on her face that held nothing but pride. “Hello, boys,” she said, and a chill seemed to fill the room immediately after. “Glad you could finally join us.”

Kyo's smirk dropped at the sight, and his cold demeanor was immediately replaced with seething hot rage. The heat of his anger radiated from him, but he - miraculously - kept his cool. His hands were in tight fists at his sides, his feet were planted to the floor, and his face was set with scorn. He said nothing.

But Yuki, the crowned prince, knew he had no choice on whether he could speak or say nothing. He had to speak, no matter what, even if felt the same amount of anger and disgust at the person who just spoke. And it took everything in him to keep his hands from forming fists, took everything in him to keep the cold, emotionless smile on his own face as he said,

“Hello, Akito.”

-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dedicated to yna, who saw the snippet when i posted it after writing it on a whim last night. gave me the motivation i needed to finish this today. thank you! <3


	3. (no) clear skies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You disrespected Father. What kind of prince does such a cruel thing, says such cruel words?”
> 
> "Me. And like I said…”
> 
> He stepped closer to Kyo as he spoke the next words, close enough where the two were now face to face. Kyo’s stare was a fire burning through Yuki’s soul, but Yuki’s was icy, sharp, and cold enough to steal his very last breath. And if Kyo wasn’t his brother, maybe he would have - but instead, he just said this:
> 
> “Are you gonna try to stop me?”

The room was silent.

If anyone were to breathe wrong, it’d be heard for sure.

Maybe that’s why no one spoke, and why both princes were holding theirs.

“What?” Akito’s voice was smooth as silk, hypnotizing in the way one would lure in prey. Her finger traced circles slowly around the edge of the glass cup in front of her, empty. Her eyes held the gaze of the princes, her stare sharp, threatening. It was as if, if they pulled away, it’d cut them in two. “Cat got your tongues, my princes?”

Kyo growled, his voice low and angry. “What the hell are you doing there?” His eyes seemed to glow red with anger, matching the vibrance of red wine that sat at the center of the table. “That’s not your damn seat.”

He wore a white collared long-sleeve, similar to Yuki’s, but no suit over it; he pushed the sleeves to his elbows, and his muscle was prominent when he crossed his arms. He had a ruby red tie that matched the color of his eyes in dim lighting. His hair was much better done than Yuki’s, and, although his look was simple, a certain strength radiated from him, as if making it known that was someone within a position of very influential power.

Obviously, being a prince, he was. He knew it.

But he just didn’t have as much power as the person standing beside him.

And Akito knew that.

“Then whose seat is it, Kyo? Yours?” Her lips curled into a knowing smirk, and her eyes went from scanning him to the heir to the throne. “Or do you just wish it was?” 

Kyo’s fists were so tightly closed that his knuckles were white. He snarled at the woman with the crown, but said nothing. What was there to say, after all? He knew she was right, and he despised her for it.

Both young men did.

Yuki sighed. He was worn out for the third time in the past hour, but he’d rather be worn out from sparring than this. Anything but this, actually. “Akito,” he said, his voice tired, “quit the act and remove the crown, Father will be here at any moment.” 

Akito reached her small, pale hands to the crown, tracing each feature delicately with her fingers. The gold of the crown contrasted the silver in her jewelry, the diamonds in her necklace and on her ears clashing with the rubies on each point. The crown looked rather large on her petite frame.

She began to remove the crown, only to twirl it around her wrist carelessly. “And what makes you think that I’ll listen to you?” She hummed, her gaze never leaving his cold, gray eyes. “The prince who refuses to accept he’s a prince at all, worn by the continuous fighting against the duty he was born with?”

Yuki’s hands twitched, and the sunlight coming through the large windows didn’t seem to give enough warmth for the sudden draft that came in as Yuki’s mood began to stir. If Kyo’s anger was fire, hot and uncontrollable, then Yuki’s was ice, cold and unforgiving. His hands twitched at his sides, the adrenaline from his sparring once again flooding his veins like a storm. _If only._ His fist began to clench, and the thoughts, like a gust of wind through the snow. _If only-_

“Akito.”

All eyes turned to another man at the table, a gentleman a few years older than the two with dark black hair and emotionless dark eyes. “Stop fooling around and sit,” he said, his tone light but stern. “Kazuma will be here shortly.”

As he said that, footsteps were heard just outside the doors. While the others in the room seemed to release a quiet breath, release the tension in their bodies at the sound of the footsteps (Yuki had forgotten about the others until the man spoke; Akito and her antics caught all their attention), Kyo inhaled sharply at the incoming presence.

“Fine,” Akito finally listened, and she dropped the crown carelessly on the sleek brown table, landing with a sharp _clang_ that echoed around the room. Then, there was silence once again, and no one dared to speak afterwards. 

Kyo and Yuki forced themselves to move through the thick tension, their footsteps messy and never in sync as they made their way to their respective seats, one seat on each side closest to the king’s. The guards tracked their every mood, and the family kept their eyes on the table in front of them, aside from Akito and the man who had stopped her.

The others didn’t want to risk it. One wrong look at Kyo would glare a fire onto their skin, one wrong word and Yuki would speak ice into their hearts. Different kinds of anger, but both just as deadly.

And then the doors finally opened.

Yuki wasn’t sure if the tension disappeared, or if it just got even more suffocating.

Every member of the family stood up at once, heads bowed at the presence of the king. He stood at the entrance of the room, two guards flanked at each side. Kyo and Yuki spoke up first. “Good afternoon, Father,” the two said in unison, their tones of anger now replaced with respect, and warmth.

The rest of the family, however, called him by a different title.

King Kazuma.

“Good afternoon, everyone!” Kazuma’s voice was soft but powerful, filling the room with warmth and immediately clearing the air of almost all previous tension. He looked around, from the family, to the two princes at the end of the table. If there was any tension or any other emotion in the princes’ eyes as they stared at him, Kazuma definitely couldn’t tell. “Shall we begin?"

-

After the sun rose to its peak and it became a little past noon, Kakeru began to wake up slowly from his short noon nap. He rose a hand to his eyes, rubbing them before blinking a few times and yawning loudly. Kakeru stared up at the blue ceiling, then at the silver chandelier above his head, the glass table beside the couch he was currently waking up on, the amount of wine on that table - red wine, the most expensive in the country, since Yuki _definitely_ loves his wine-

_Yuki._

Kakeru jolted up into a sitting position. “Yuki?” He called his prince’s name aloud, but it echoed throughout the room without a response. His bed head was tangled mess atop his head and his shirt wrinkled from the tossing and turning (for a rich and pampered prince, his couch could be a hundred better). Kakeru said his name again, louder, as if it’d make a difference. “Yuki?! Ah, shit, where did he go…”

Then, after a moment of thought, he finally remembered. The meeting. The meeting with the king. 

Kakeru’s eye twitched. _And he didn’t wake me up?_

He finally jumped off the couch in a rush, buttoning his shirt back on and flattening it down. He reached for his black tie that lay on the arm of the couch and wrapped it around his collar quickly, looking around as he slipped on his black dress shoes - and slid his sword under the bed beside the prince’s own. “Yuki, you goddamn prick,” Kakeru cursed as he stumbled towards the door, tripping on his own feet. “You left without me!”

Dozens of thoughts ran through his mind as he walked briskly through the all-too quiet hallway, towards the meeting room that only the family and their guards can enter. Kakeru is Yuki’s first guard. So, obviously, wouldn’t it be logical to wake him up before going to an all-important, royal family meeting? A little shoulder pat, maybe? A “Wake up, Manabe”? Or did Yuki just want to ditch him, after dragging him into a sparring match for such a long time before the meeting? Kakeru scoffed. Yuki is the reason Kakeru fell asleep in the goddamn first place! 

“And you didn’t even try to wake me up and I _know_ it,” Kakeru muttered under his breath, passing by the pictures on the wall and letting his eye glance at a few before reaching the doors. He paused in front of the others guarding the doors, nodding. “Prince Sohma’s first guard. I apologize for being-”

A crash was heard from inside the room, cutting Kakeru off. It was definitely a plate. He heard muffled yells between men, and he recognized the voices.

“Screw you! You have no right to be telling us what to do!”

Kyo Sohma, the second prince. 

“Kyo, it’s alright. Let her speak.”

The king.

“Yeah, Prince Kyo. What’s wrong with a little helpful criticism?”

The woman who Kakeru would punch if she wasn’t royalty.

“It’d be helpful if you weren’t such a nuisance in the royal court.”

And the heir, Yuki Sohma.

At the sound of his voice, Kakeru was ready to shove through the doors, but Yuki burst out first. If he noticed Kakeru, he didn’t make it known, walking past him without a single glance in his direction and back towards his room. The doors almost shut behind him, but the second prince stepped out before they did.

“Yuki!” 

Kyo called out his name angrily, stomping out of the room after him. Kakeru watched as Kyo grabbed his arm and pulled him to turn around and face him. “What the hell do you think you’re doing!?”

“Walking out,” Yuki said coldly, yanking his arm out of Kyo’s grasp. “What the fuck else do you think?”

“You can’t just walk out like that, especially when Father asks you himself-”

_“No?_ I _can’t?”_ Yuki’s voice dripped with sarcasm and he raised an eyebrow. “Then who’s gonna stop me? You?” His eyes were level with Kyo's, but the latter said nothing - and Kakeru supposed he didn’t need to, because the absolute anger radiating from his red eyes said everything they didn’t hear. Kyo’s fists were clenched so tightly that his knuckles were white, a strikingly pale comparison to the black suit he had specifically picked just for this family meeting. 

And speaking of clothes, Yuki’s carefully done tie was now loose, unprofessional, and Kakeru knew it was because of his anxious habit: tying and untying, his collar buttons undone. And the cold in his words, the lack of care in his tone, the sarcastic and emotionless grin on his face as he continued to stare into Kyo’s angry one - Kakeru knew that when Yuki said he didn’t give a fuck, he meant it. 

“You disrespected Father.” Kyo said this slowly, the words meant to stab and poison Yuki’s nerves. “What kind of prince does such a cruel thing, says such cruel words?”

Yuki took a moment to respond, tilting his head, a gesture that was defiant as it was mocking. “Me,” he said simply, and just as slow. “And like I said…”

He stepped closer to Kyo as he spoke the next words, close enough where the two were now face to face. Kyo’s stare was a fire burning through Yuki’s soul, but Yuki’s was icy, sharp, and cold enough to steal his very last breath. And if Kyo wasn’t his brother, maybe he would have - but instead, he just said this:

“Are you gonna try to stop me?”

There was a challenge in Yuki’s words, and Kyo snarled. Kakeru always saw the princes as two opposing forces, and there was no denying the power both held, especially in this moment of fire against ice.

But he really, _really_ didn’t want to see what would happen if they finally met. So Kakeru swallowed the lump in his throat, calmed his nerves, and called out to him. “Yuki.”

The two snapped their heads in his directions, and he felt an immediate shiver down his spine at the intensity of their stares. Would he freeze, or melt? He didn’t want to find out. “That’s enough, Yuki,” Kakeru said calmly (and fearfully). “And if you’re done with the meeting, then let’s just go.”

Yuki stared at Kakeru, and Kakeru held his breath.

Then, he turned his head, and continued to walk away, leaving a silently raging Kyo behind, and his guard to follow. Kakeru released his breath of relief before walking after him. But as he passed Kyo, he paused.

“The good little knight, always by his prince’s side,” Kyo’s voice low and condescending, and Kakeru knew his words were carefully chosen. “But you won’t be there to hold him back every time, now, will you?”

Kakeru shook his head, and continued walking.

-

“Yuki!” 

Kakeru called after him even as the young prince walked into his room, Kakeru shortly after, and the doors slamming shut behind them, sealing them away from the troubles they left behind. “Yuki, what the hell was that!?” 

Yuki practically ripped the tie off of his neck and cast it aside to the floor, breathing heavily. He felt as if he finished a second training session - but this time, he didn’t come out unscathed. He kicked his shoes off and they went skittering across the floor, and he finally felt like he could breathe. _Breathe, Yuki. Just breathe._

“A family fucking meeting, Manabe. What else would it be?” 

_So much for breathing._

“I think I got that without your unnecessary sarcasm!” Kakeru ran a hand through his brown hair, pulling at it slightly as he watched Yuki begin pacing around the room. He followed Yuki’s eyes towards the wine bottles on his table, and Kakeru groaned. “Can you not drink right now? You’re too damn moody to handle that.”

“Isn’t that the reason everyone in this world drinks? When you go see the family you don’t even like, and play pretend like you’re the most perfect, un-dysfunctional family in the universe?” Much to his disliking, Yuki responded with even _more_ sarcasm, walking away to pick up a bottle despite Kakeru’s pleas. He popped the lid off, and lifted it towards his mouth, stopping right before his breath could hit the opening. “And it’s aaaaallllll for the sake of a silly little reputation that you don’t even give a _damn_ about.”

Before he could lift the bottle and tip it over his mouth, Kakeru stepped over and grabbed the bottle away from him. The prince glared at his guard. “Give it back.”

“Drinking your problems away is a cowardly move,” Kakeru said, shoving the prince back when he tried to reach for it, “and you know it.”

“I order you to give it back!”

“With all due respect, since when do I give a shit about your orders?” Kakeru lifted the bottle to his lips, and drank the rest of what was left. When he finished, he threw the bottle onto the couch and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Yuki groaned and threw his hands into the air, exasperated. “God, Yuki, you’re acting like a drunk even without the alcohol.”

“You’re not my damn babysitter!” Yuki said loudly.

_And yet here I am,_ Kakeru thought. _Being a babysitter._ “Can you just tell me what’s wrong? You’ve been acting up since before training.”

A mix of emotions immediately flashed in Yuki’s eyes, too quick of a moment for Kakeru to process it all. Yuki knew Kakeru noticed the falter, and it just made him even angrier. “Damn it, Kakeru, didn’t I say I didn’t want to talk about it?” Yuki snapped, and Kakeru flinched.

He opened his mouth, but no words came out. He closed it, and they stood in silence.

Until finally, Yuki sighed. The tension released from his shoulders, and all he felt now, was defeat. And fatigue. “I…sorry.” Yuki mumbled and looked downward, guilt immediately washing over him. Kakeru had done nothing wrong, but Yuki was lashing out as if he did. Yuki’s last bits of anger were now gone with that snap; all that was left now was Yuki’s tired spirit. His room had always had a cold tone to it, but now, he felt nothing. The sunlight that hit against the glamour of the room felt like it was burning him, the warmth was suffocating.

And it was only around 3 PM. 

Yuki turned away from Kakeru for a moment, towards the balcony. The sky was clear, and he closed his eyes, inhaling sharply as he gathered his thoughts. “It wasn’t a good meeting,” he said softly.

Kakeru snorted. “No shit.”

Yuki didn’t reply, so it was Kakeru’s turn to sigh. “You should’ve woken me up,” he finally said, the fight leaving him, too. “I could’ve… I could’ve tried to help.”

Yuki shook his head. “As much as your job is to defend, a guard cannot interfere with the royal family’s personal affairs. You wouldn’t have been able to do anything if you tried.”

Kakeru faltered a little at that, and Yuki felt it. But there was truth to those words. A truth neither could fight.

Kakeru was a first guard, but he was no royal.

Yuki turned to him, and Kakeru met his eyes. And as much as he hated it, he had at least one more option. He glanced at the empty bottle on the couch. A truce. He swallowed his logic and his pride for this. 

Kakeru asked, “Can I at least buy you a drink?” 

And Yuki, after such a long moment of grief, finally cracked a smile. “Sure.”

Kakeru grinned. “You damn alcoholic, agreeing so quick.” He quickly looped his arm around his prince’s, and the two began to walk. “Remind me to raid your closet to make sure you don’t have any more of that ruby-red wine.”

Yuki laughed, and his laugh felt like winter finally passed into spring once more. “Noted.”

And with that, Kakeru ran ahead to open the door for him and bowed, evoking another laugh from the gray prince as he walked out, with his guard following closely beside him.

-


End file.
